Six Scifi Stories (3 page)

 

*****

That night, no one bothered Luther. No 'Zoids barged up to wallop the door of Boraf's house-mound, demanding conversion. Luther figured it was because Boraf--and other 'Zoids, too, most likely--was doing the job just fine without him.

Finally, Luther was alone with time to rest...but all he could do was lie awake and think.

The faces of the many people he'd killed kept drifting up out of his memory, filling him with guilt and regret. Number 150, in particular, kept returning again and again, the worst of the lot.

Number 150, Harmony Duquesne, 18 years old.

The harder he tried not to think about her, the more forcefully she surged back to the forefront of his mind. The man he had become could not believe what the man he had been had done to her.

He wondered how he had managed it, how he had managed any of it. Thinking back, he tried to understand what had driven him, what had enabled him to commit such atrocities...and he couldn't. He had the memories, bright and brutal and real, but no grasp at all of the mentality that had brought them into being.

He was a monster, and he finally knew it. Whatever had blinded him to the truth had been leeched out of him by the 'Zoids; he finally had a conscience and awareness of his nature.

And he wished he didn't.

There was only one redeeming factor, one thing that he might have done right, and he clung to it. By instilling the killer instinct in the 'Zoids, he might have given them the means to save their world.

Maybe (Luther tried to convince himself) this single act could balance the scales for the past...or, at least, allow him to live with the memories of what he had done. Maybe, with this act of redemption and his newfound change of heart, Luther still had hope for a brighter future free of the demons that had ruled him for most of his life.

And maybe, the evil he had done had had a purpose after all, had all been leading up to this...and in saving the 'Zoids, Luther had also saved himself.

Rolling over on the sleeping mat, he reached for his cigarettes and fished one out. As he lit it, he listened to the chaos outside--the yips and whistles and squeals of 'Zoids in frenzy, the splashing of body fluids, the smacking of corpses on the street. It was a
round-the-clock madhouse out there, like a vision of Hell...and he had made it.

He tried not to think about how many 'Zoids were dying out there as he smoked, how many had died since his arrival on Ectos. Instead, he reminded himself that the death was necessary for the survival of the 'Zoids, that in order to fend off the invasion, they had to take drastic measures to activate violent tendencies.

Still, Luther worried that it might all fly out of control. Clearly, the 'Zoids were getting carried away with their newfound murderous impulses; Luther expected a worldwide escalation as the killing gift spread around the planet. He thought it was possible that the 'Zoids would get so caught up in their collective rampage that they would be too disorganized or depopulated to fight when the invaders arrived.

Which would cancel out any balancing of the scales for Luther. If anything, it would dump him so far into the negative side that he would never even get a glimpse of the positive side again.

He would be to blame. Conquered, the 'Zoids might have survived, might even have someday overthrown their conquerors. Thanks to Luther, however, the 'Zoids might kill themselves off on their own.

It would have been the ultimate accomplishment for a death-hungry serial killer, a real work of art. Unfortunately, Luther wasn't a serial killer anymore. He wasn't sure what he was, but he knew he wasn't a serial killer.

 

*****

The next morning, Boraf shuffled in excitedly, dripping with pink and yellow milk and inky fluid. Luther was still up, smoking, but he felt like crap; he was irritated that Boraf was still full of energy after being out murdering all night, and he was further peeved that the entire 'Zoid species never seemed to need sleep at all.

"How was your night?" said Luther, blowing out smoke.

Boraf sniffed loudly and backed away from the cloud that Luther had exhaled. "Night of history!" it said, voice shrill as a fire bell. "Boraf make many Ectozoid kill. Many Ectozoid make many more Ectozoid kill."

"Looks like you did some killing yourself," said Luther.

Boraf shook his tentacles, spraying fluid all over the walls and floor. "Want kill more," said the creature. A noise like a cross between a fart and fingernails scratching a chalkboard burst from its fluttering blowhole.

"Yeah," said Luther, stubbing out his cigarette. "So anyway, that big invasion oughtta hit soon, right?"

"Invasion two days," said Boraf, tentacles twisting and swaying.

"And the Ectozoids are ready?" said Luther.

"Ready two days," said Boraf. "Make many Ectozoid kill."

Luther sighed. "It just seems like a lot of chaos right now. If there's an invasion coming in two days, shouldn't your people be getting prepared?"

Boraf made a wheezing, oinking sound and bobbled his head. "Ectozoids prepare! Make ships ready kill now. Make troops ready fly ships."

Luther felt relieved. It was the first reference he'd heard to any kind of defense preparations other than Ectozoids killing each other. "So you'll be ready in two days?"

"Ready two days," said Boraf. "Ready save world."

Luther nodded. "That's good. I was starting to think things were getting out of control with all the killing."

Boraf had been fidgeting around, but it suddenly stopped. "Always control," it said. "Ectozoids good control."

Luther smirked. "Except when you're all worked up about killing each other."

"Control killing too," puffed Boraf. "Only kill weak. Only kill lazy."

Luther had been reaching for another cigarette, and he stopped. "You're killing the weak?" he said, staring up at the jellyfish.

"Need strong save world," said Boraf. "Need all strong no weak no lazy."

Luther's stomach twisted. He had never considered that the apparent chaos masked a methodical effort to thin the herd. It had never occurred to him that the 'Zoids were choosing their victims in other than a random fashion.

His newfound conscience shot him full of guilt. Until that moment, he had consoled himself with the knowledge that his brutal influence would at least lead to a redemptive outcome...but now, even that consolation was deflated. The 'Zoids were cleansing themselves of undesirables, and he was responsible for setting the pogrom in motion.

He was no better than Hitler. There was a time when that wouldn't have bothered him a bit, but that time was long gone.

Just when Luther hated himself as much as he thought possible, he found that he could hate himself even more.

He hated the 'Zoids almost as much. Though their crimes had been instigated by him, he believed that the seeds of savagery must have been within them all along. He didn't believe that the notion of systematic extermination of undesirables had dawned on them overnight, springing solely from his influence.

The 'Zoids were just as bad as he was, or as he had been. Looking at them was like looking in a mirror, and he was sick of what he saw.

Suddenly, Luther wanted one thing more than anything in the universe.

"So when do I go home?" he said, grabbing the pack of cigarettes. "You promised I'd leave before the invasion."

"Two days," said Boraf, picking up a fresh knife from a table and shuffling toward the door.

"Isn't that cutting it kind of close?" said Luther. "The invasion's supposed to start in two days."

Boraf slapped the door and its component eels slithered apart. "No worry," said the 'Zoid. "Luther go fast ship. Leave early."

Luther frowned. "You sure I'll get out in time? We had a deal, remember?"

"Fast ship," said Boraf. "Get away go Earth fast."

"Why not leave tomorrow?" said Luther. "You don't need me here anymore."

"Ship ready two days," said Boraf, shuffling out the door. "Now Boraf go make many Ectozoid kill."

As the door closed, Luther lit his cigarette. All of a sudden, he had a bad feeling about his future.

 

*****

Two mornings later, Luther found himself riding a giant centipede.

He and Boraf sat in a bubble that was either grown from the creature's back or attached there, he couldn't tell which. It was the same type of transportation he had ridden from the spaceport to Boraf's house-mound upon his arrival...apparently, the local version of a taxi.

Sunlight gleamed off the creature's ruby carapace as it scuttled through the streets, neatly winding its segmented length around bends and corners. Giant antennae danced from its head like fishing poles, constantly twitching and flickering in the air.

As the centipede taxi hurried them through the maze of the city, Luther noticed that the mayhem of the past week had finally subsided. The orgy of killing had seemed to die away in the middle of the night, from what he could hear from inside Boraf's house-mound, and now he didn't see a single murder underway anywhere. It was as if someone had given a signal, and all the 'Zoids had stopped killing at once.

Stopped killing and headed for the spaceport, apparently. All along the centipede's route, Luther saw 'Zoids shuffling in the same direction that the taxi was traveling. The further the taxi went, the more 'Zoids filled the streets...until, at the spaceport, the centipede was packed in all around by a vast crowd of jellyfish, all shambling toward the cluster of massive, globular spacecraft steaming on the launch pads.

It got so crowded that the centipede had to slow from a scuttle to a crawl, though it never stopped moving. When the 'Zoids didn't get out of its way voluntarily, the creature simply plowed through them, shoving them aside or nosing them under its hundred-legged bulk.

Before long, the taxi drew up to one of the ships, many times smaller than the other vessels but of the same spherical design. The bubble on the centipede's back rolled open like an eyelid, and Boraf wriggled down the creature's side to the ground.

As Luther handed down his duffel bag of possessions, he squinted up at the mirrored silver skin of the
sphere-ship. It looked identical to the craft that had brought him from Earth, and that ship had made the trip in nothing flat, in less than a day...but he was still worried. In spite of Boraf's reassurances, Luther wasn't convinced that he would escape the invasion.

"You're sure this'll get me away in time?" he said.

"Fast ship," said Boraf. "No worry."

Luther took another look before reaching for his food locker. He started to lift it, but arthritis pain flashed through his arms and hands.

Releasing the locker handles, he hissed breath between clenched teeth and massaged his hands. "Hell with it," he said. "Short trip to Earth, right?"

"Short trip," said Boraf. "Fast ship."

Luther popped the locker open and pulled out a can of chili and a packet of juice. "I'll just bring a snack and leave the rest here."

"Bring snack," said Boraf, extending tentacles to help Luther down the side of the centipede.

Luther held on to a tentacle and slid off the taxi's ruby carapace. He couldn't wait until he was home and would never have to touch another slimy tentacle for the rest of his life.

"What about my payment?" he said.

"All on ship," puffed Boraf. "Plus bonus."

"All right," said Luther, shouldering the duffel bag with difficulty. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

 

*****

As the ship popped out of the atmosphere like a bubble popping out of soapy water, Luther asked for the tenth time if the invasion fleet was getting close yet.

"All clear," said Boraf, though it didn't seem to be looking at a monitor screen or out a window. "Safe passage."

Luther's eyes were glued to the circular viewport alongside his seat. "Wait," he said, squinting at a distant flicker of light. "Is that one of their ships?"

"No," said Boraf.

"Well, how do you know?" snapped Luther. "You didn't even look."

Boraf floated past, free of the harness that had restrained it during liftoff. "Always notified of danger," said the 'Zoid. "No danger now."

Luther snorted and kept his eyes on the viewport anyway.

He caught a glimpse of another suspicious twinkle and followed it, heart racing...then decided it was just a star and only appeared to be moving relative to the ship. He saw a group of distant lights and leaned so close to the viewport that his nose almost touched the glass...but they were just a group of stars or planets, fixed in the darkness.

Breathing fast, mouth dry, joints throbbing, Luther wished he could light a smoke. Unfortunately, even if the 'Zoids had allowed him to light up on the spaceship, he didn't have any cigarettes left.

Any way he looked at it, he was going home just in time.

Gazing into the blackness beyond the viewport, Luther wondered which of the pinpricks of light was Earth's sun. He wished that he was already there, already breathing the sweet air and moving among other human beings and drinking in the familiar sights...savoring all the things that he had so taken for granted and never would again.

At the same time that the thought of going home excited him, it scared the hell out of him. He was returning to Earth as a new man, free of his old compulsions, remorseful and self-aware. He was already planning to face up to the crimes of his past, to make amends and restitution as best he could and pay the price for what he had done...which would ease his newfound conscience but would be the fight of his life. By the time it was all over, his very life might be the price he would have to pay. That, he was not looking forward to.

And then there was another possibility that was wearing on him.

What if, when he got home, whatever had changed within him changed back?

Suddenly, something caught his eye outside the viewport, and he jumped. Craning his neck, he saw a gleaming silver curve gliding up from the rear edge of the window, sparking in the light of Ectos' sun.

"Boraf!" he said, watching as the silver advanced and expanded...and then, as the word left his mouth, he recognized the shape.

It was one of the 'Zoid sphere ships, moving alongside them. The massive globe floated up from the 'Zoid homeworld, traveling in the same direction as the ship carrying Luther.

He heard a familiar sloshing and rustling as Boraf drifted up beside him. "Killship," said the 'Zoid. "Killship save world."

Keeping his eyes glued to the viewport, Luther spotted another of the giant spheres beyond the first. And then another. Moving in formation, they paralleled his own ship's course and speed, bobbing in the void like enormous silver balloons.

Luther frowned as another sphere pushed up alongside the rest. "We're all heading in the same direction," he said. "Are they escorting us till we're safely away from here?"

"Ships escort," said Boraf.

"Well, good," said Luther, leaning back. "I'd hate to wind up in the line of fire."

Boraf made a noise like the wail of a saw being played with a fiddle bow. "Luther safe," it said, patting his head with a tentacle. "No worry."

As Boraf floated forward to burble at the 'Zoids operating the ship's controls, Luther tried to relax. He felt a little better knowing that his ship had a protective escort, but he still couldn't quite extinguish the foreboding that needled the back of his mind.

After a while, though, when the ships had cruised far from Ectos with no sign of danger, he finally managed to convince himself that he would be okay. Slowly, his nervousness faded, and he actually drifted off to sleep.